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If I felt exposed with him kneeling in front of me earlier, it’s nothing compared to this. I’m straddling his head, his fingers digging into my thighs to steady me, as he slowly slides his tongue along my neediest part. And he’s right, all thoughts about ice and failure fly out of my head. All I can think about is his tongue, his fingers, the way his beard feels against my thighs.
He makes me feel safe and alive. Like I could do anything and he wouldn’t judge me. I’ve never felt like that before.
It’s just me and this stupidly attractive hockey player, who’s fisting himself as he devours me, letting out groans like I’m the best meal he’s ever eaten.
I close my eyes, bracing myself against the headboard and let out my own aching groan, embarrassment forgotten as he teases me until I’m screaming.
This man is going to be the death of me.
* * *
MACKENZIE
“Why did you take the dating app off your phone?” Rachel asks. It’s Monday morning and I’m drinking my Goran-delivered coffee, trying not to wince because I’m kind of tender down there.
No wonder. I spent most of yesterday in bed with Eli. Every time we talked about getting up we ended up having sex again.
My lady parts have been seriously overworked.
“Who told you?” I ask her.
“I overheard Allison on the phone to her boyfriend. She’s promised him she’ll find some other sucker to test it. Anyway, stop changing the subject. Was it your date that put you off?”
“Kind of.”
“What do you meankind of? What else would make you do that—” She trails off. “Oh. My. God. Have you been seeing somebody without telling me?”
“No.” I shift in my chair.
“Is it that delicious Swede who brings you coffee?”
“Goran? No.” I frown. “I’m nearly old enough to be his mom.”
“That shouldn’t stop you. Who else then? Wait. Eli Salinger?”
How did she get there so fast? Maybe it’s the distinct lack of men my age in the local region. “Maybe,” I concede.
“EEEEK!” Her cry makes me wince. “You and the coach?”
“Please tell me nobody in the office heard that.”
“I’m not in the office,” she tells me. “I’m walking out of the coffee shop onto the sidewalk. Nobody can hear me. Well, nobody from work anyway. The donut guy just gave me a funny look though.” There’s a slurping sound. “Anyway, don’t change the subject. I need all the details. Right now.”
“What details?” I ask her. “It was one night.” And a day. But she doesn’t need to know that.
“Was he good?”
I roll my eyes. “Um, yeah.”
She lets out a groan. “Talking to you is like getting blood from a stone. I need enthusiasm here. Marks out of ten. That kind of thing. My dry spell has been as long as yours. I need to live vicariously through you.”
I check that the door to my office is closed. This isn’t the kind of conversation I want anybody to hear.
Not even the donut guy.
“He didn’t watch the whole video,” I tell her.
“What?”
